


WITCHFUCKER

by Tatsuya_Sakura_Kaname



Category: Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Cuckquean, First Kiss, Gen, Genderless, Guro, Knifeplay, Loss of Virginity, Misogyny, Multi, Other, Pregnancy Scares, Rape, Scat, Slice of Life, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatsuya_Sakura_Kaname/pseuds/Tatsuya_Sakura_Kaname
Summary: A servant of the Law of Cycles loses their way, descending into a ruthless, merciless criminal that terrorises the young girls of Kamihama and Mitakihara alike. The only thing that can be heard at night are the wails of despoiled and ruined former magical maidens.
Relationships: Miki Sayaka/Reader, Mitsuki Felicia/Reader
Kudos: 3





	1. Oktavia von Seckendorff

I rejoiced as I carved myself into Sayaka Miki’s body, breathing and gasping in pleasure. Her cunt readily took me in, even as she grogilly purred half-sleeping, half-awake. The cold air bit me, the lights barely illuminating our two joined bodies. I thrust inside and outside of her semi-conscious body, the squeaking of air bubbles crushing filled my ears. God, this was tedious. Was she a virgin or not? The fishy stench of her cunt practically oozed out of her hole. The slightest smear of red pulsed on my dick, the cold light of the station calmly – as if it had a mind of its own – illuminating my dick as it readied to plunge itself back into Sayaka’s cunt. Her light breathing was like the mediocre resistance the troops of an invaded country gave to attackers. I was going to go Barbarossa on her cunt.

Her cunt walls convulsed, sucking and wrapping around my dickcock. Dickcock, cockdick, dickcock? To be honest, I wasn’t thinking straight. All I know is that I have a weapon and that Sayaka Miki is my prey. I was going to carve myself into her and she would suffer for it. A draught blew through the train station, shivers rocking my spine. I let out a boyish moan as her walls claim my dick, practically sucking it up.

Sayaka’s chest rises, breath freed from her lungs. Her eyelids slowly opened. A draught tickles my nape. Her eyes look at me and her body apparently learns what is happening:  
  
“Madok-” Sayaka half-deliriously learns who I am. My dick hardens viciously, crudely seeking to claim every fold of her cunt. Sayaka screeches at the top of her lung and puts her back into a push against my chest. It hit me like a small car. I winced as it felt as if my glans would be pulled off from the rest of my dick. Sayaka had both a strong cunt and a strong push. If one were skeptical about the true sex and gender of certain fashion models from Mizuna Ward in Kamihama, then you could say that Sayaka was like tranny Ria Ami – my dick almost shrunk at the thought of the dilating Mizuna beauty – Sayaka Miki had the strength of or surpassing a teenager boy. It was as if Sayaka had the strength of a man. I reward her trouble with good strong discipline – the back of my hand met her face from above forcefully, enough to reverberate back from the station tiles to my bones. Another strong and healthy backhand slap – a “backhand blow” in my carnal war against Sayaka – cracks something, maybe the back of her skull. My brutal conquest of Miki pussy, barely illuminated the pinkish filth of sexual fluids and hymen continues.

There is only wailing and tears from Sayaka as I continue and revel in my conquest of her cunt, fading into the space of the train station. I ruthlessly jam my dick in and out, plunging to the warmest and filthiest folds of her cunt. The cries of a young maiden-turned-womancunt reverberated, her spine thudding into the tile floor as body contorts in pain. For a moment, she seems very receptive and accepting of her fate as my hole. Cuntfarts whistle from the union of man and woman, shredded pieces of hymen and lumps of blood marking the connection between us. It seemed like she would learn to finally accept her place as a woman. Yet Sayaka defied me. Her legs, which had probably been dangling crudely around my waist – I bet if you looked from behind, you would see her socks crumpled to the ankles of her shoes while her panties were crudely dancing in the night draught as I fuck her cunt – had been inching closer to my shoulders, the bend of the knees pointing towards my chest. Sayaka intended to use her legs to push me off and then presumably kick me. Indeed, that was exactly what she did – her shoe could’ve crushed my heart with all that force pumping from her knees. My fist, my Panzerfaust had been primed for this. Like a Stuka, it mercilessly plunged down into her belly and returning upwards it dived back down again. My knuckles met the coolness of the tile floor, probably smashing and flattening a piece of intestine or two. Sayaka’s screams truly made for good dive-bomber sirens. I most definitely wasn’t going to anally penetrate her with that kind of dirty internal bleeding to deal with. Just imagining the disgusting mixture of faeces and blood that would putrify my dick’s head if did that almost shrunk my dick out of her cunt.

The nice wallop had made Sayaka far more agreeable to my pleasure. Breathing in and out, I clear my mind for this great task, this great duty. Forcefully erecting my dick, straining at my hips to fill it with erecting blood, I restored my natural pussyfucking boner. My thrusts were moderate, constrained almost. I really put my mind into it – the rhythmic strokes inside and outside of her almost made our union natural. I moaned, relishing in the sweetness of every single millimeter of Miki cunt I plunged in and out of. Where I tended towards orgasm, I myself relaxed and slowed down my pace. I shrilly giggled and moaned as each and every millimetre of my shaft reigned over each and every millimeter of Sayaka’s cunt. Sayaka for her part, could only stare upwards distantly, her breaths ragged.

My wiener shrunk, escaping from Sayaka’s pussy. My fury had practically been doused when she stopped resisting. Now she was just breathing, staring away as if it were a nightmare waiting to end. Brutal carnal fucking had withered away into a prematurely ended deflowering session – not even a drop of cum had come out of me. Near-vacantly staring into Sayaka’s blue eyes – slighter darker blue than her muff-hair, I should add – I choose to invade her mouth with my tongue. My slurping kisses slobbered slimily, tracing her palate and teeth. I barely manage not to gag from the days’ worth of bad breath Sayaka had brought into her mouth from wandering the streets away from home and family. She almost accepted me as a surrogate for the people within her life, it seemed.

“Turn around and get onto all fours.” I practically command her. Woof-woof. Woof-woof. If you read about Sayaka Miki – I had my sources – you would deduce she had the demeanor of a dogs, a bitch in heat. The way she had acted recently, evidently alienating every enemy and friend alike – that pointed to a canine demeanor. Sayaka Miki was a bitch, a true bitch. No doubt in Plato’s world of Forms, the Platonic form of Sayaka Miki was situated next to “Bitch”. Thus, doggy was a fitting receiving position for her. She almost complies – Sayaka rolls around silently and prepares to lift her ass high, on her elbows and knees.

\- A bright flash – the boyish nude form of Sayaka could be seen if you just paid attention to the right jiffy – Magical girl Sayaka Miki, clad in cape, blue skirt and almost prim and free of wounds tries to bolt away from me.

No.

Just as soon as she had transformed into a Magical Girl, Sayaka Miki now returned to an ordinary schoolgirl. Sayaka winced in confusion. ‘I’d made a contract with Kyubey. I fought countless Witches. I lost Kyousuke to Hitomi.’ No doubt that was on her mind. The light of her Soul Gem pulsed on her finger again and again. Again and again, her Magical Girl form would not come to her. As far as I was concerned, she was just another woman.

I was a man. Men were physically stronger than women. The look on her face as I seized her once again, pushing her back down to the floor, like a woman like her deserved – that look was probably worth the entire extended Mikuni estate, down to Oriko’s cunt. Maybe it was even worth more than the total value of all property in Mizuna! So as a man, I grabbed her shoulders, correcting her form back into that’s of breeding dog’s. That near-priceless face of utter shock, that had made my little man as hard as steel once again. The logical next step of this was my manstick shoving shoving, stabbing down her snatch from behind as I forced her back down. That was not the only thing that would stab Sayaka. I pulled my switchblade out, opening it. My dick pulsed hard at the threat of my own penectomy. I plunged my knife, stabbing and tearing Sayaka’s anus.

“YE- YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!” Sayaka’s howl filled the station

Anuses were not fit for cocks. They were not fit for dildos, which resembled cocks. The vagina is a sacred organ, the anus is a profane one. Therefore anuses were only places of torture and defecation. Sayaka’s anus was fit to be stabbed with a good knife.

“STOP IT! STOP IT! KYOUSUKE! SAVE ME! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!” The train station had become filled with Miki cacophony – true pandemonium.

Her vagina, my property was relished, savoured, enjoyed, every millimetre of it for every millimetre of my dick. As the rightful master of Sayaka’s anus, even as I conquered her pussy, my knife plunged in and out of her shithole. Dirty, nasty faeces, mixed with blood – rather oily, no doubt from fast food, maybe even Banbanzai gutter oil cooking given online ordering – sprinkled filthily as male and female reproductive fluids dripped under them. It was like an oil pipeline tainting a formerly pristine river – emphasis on “former” for Sayaka’s snatch was now tainted like the Ganges. Chunks of shit and blood and blood and shit stained my beautiful Mitakihara school jacket. It was now beige with brown highlights. The shine of Sayaka’s soul gem flashes again and again to no avail. I revel in the genocide of her cunt, every thrust like another Belarusian village in 1941.

“KYOUSUKE! MAMI! KYOUKO! ShEB ME!!!” Sayaka slurs, the stink of blood and shit overwhelming even her nose.

Faster faster faster I claim her cunt. There was no going back. The joy of conquest filled my head, the joy of raping Sayaka Miki filled my loins.

“I’m going to cum inside of you, Sayaka-chan!” I licked my lips despite the speck of Sayaka shit that properly splattered onto it.

“NO! NO! PLEASE DON’T CUM INSIDE, I DON’T WANNA GET PREGNANT!!!” No girl in Mitakihara would. “I’LL DO ANYTHING, DON’T CUM!” Then again, maybe Oriko would’ve found meaning in motherhood. It wasn’t Sayaka’s choice. My thrusts by cock and knife had become so rapid. As in Sun Tzu, the loser goes to battle and fucks to cum, whereas the victor wins is guaranteed to cum inside of women before he ever fucks them. And I won this battle beforehand.

I moan shrilly as I release my seed inside of the Miki vagina. Claiming her ass, I leave the knife dangling dangerously over her cunt, my cock shrinking out of her. Dollops of cum and shit and piss and blood pool into a puddle on the train station. Barely breathing, Sayaka has practically surrendered to the instincts of her sex, a crumpled ruin sticking her ass on the floor.

I gently picked up her hand and traced her finger, grabbing her Soul Gem ring. Pristine. Pure. Clean. A perfect blue untainted by grief. She was guaranteed to turn into a Witch before I came. Yet now her Soul Gem was cleansed immaculately. This was my one true gift.

I zipped up my trousers and got on my way, whistling. Either it would be eenee-meenie-minie-moe or some tabletop die for the next Magical Girl to save.

“~~Pretty littlegirl Melu-kun yeah yeah. Pretty littlegirl Melu-kun yeah yeah. Pretty littlegirl Melu-kun yeah yeah. Amane-Amane-Amane rape. Tsukuyo meat toilet, Tsukasa washing board~~  
  
~Mizuna will be changed into an exclusive brothel for Daito~  
  
~Poor pissing Kaede. Mikazuki Iroha Yachiyo threesome. Racemixing with Alina-chan, Karin be damned~  
  
~~~ Felicia ma cherie. Far more gracious than the Sakae whore Mifuyu. Kagari ma chouchute, Isabeau ma reine ~~~  
  
~Anne Frank is pregnant with my child and I’m not even a Confederate soldier~  
  
~Oriko’s toilet Kirika. Sweet gentle little girl Madoka. American babysitter Ashley~

~Puffy puffy jumpy jumpy girl Lapin. Cute and funny Riko, Cute and funny Nagisa~  
  
~Precious little Yuma~  
  
~Big fat moth Ui, Wife and mother Tart. Touka you pliant slave. Livia, you busted abortionist man-toilet~

~~Lonely lonely Mami-san. Sweet and hot and passionate Kyoukopuffs~~

  
Speak of the devi-  
”


	2. Beatrice

True love can save. Love as an abstract idea can’t save anyone, can’t save anything. What can save is love as an active, real, material process. The courtly love of the troubadours – who created the prototype of what we now know as love – cannot what we hold dear to us, for those troubadours merely sang about aristocratic women they were doomed to never physically consummate their desires for. The love of the troubadours, the playwrights, of Hollywood directors and actors is a dead concept, an abstract nothing. At worst there is doting upon an imagined love, doting that obsesses over a fixed conception of whatever is held dear. At best, that dead love is but a window into suffering of those who are held dear – at the peak, such a dead love is nothing more but voyeurism without even the benefit of sexual titillation.

That is not the love my existence is for. My existence was not for this abstract love. What was my existence for then? First I knew that I existed – like a baby being dragged out of the womb, being exposed to light. Following that, I learned of my immediate whereabouts. I floated in dark, empty space. Stars - at first glance hundreds, but then followed by millions, billions, practically countless – stretch as far as my vision could see. I was in the vacuum of the cosmos, utterly lost – after having become conscious, I had no idea of who or where I was. What I would later learn or relearn to be fear filled my veins. Yet thankfully, I was not alone.

A goddess drifted in the void with me. She was dressed in white and the frills of her dress might stretched across metres or they might have stretched across galaxies. Her wonderfully-shaped legs were neither noodly nor stumpy, but appeared to be a juicily-plump yet long pair somewhere between those two extremes. Her breasts were as delicate lumps of dango, begging to be liberated from her dress by strong, conquering hands, grasped and moulded into sore, bruised fatty pancakes. Her navel taunted my desires, depressing into her perfect little tummy, forming the neatest ‘o’ I felt I had seen. Her hair stretched, perhaps for light-years, maybe metres from left to right – they could wrap around your most precious parts and you would probably feel unending pleasure for aeons upon aeons. Perhaps it was wrong in indulge in carnal ideation with such a grand figure – her wings stretched across a distance just as long as the furthest locks of her hair – she was a goddess.

“I am so sorry. I’ve done something terrible to you. An apology will never be enough for the crime I have committed against you. I’m an awful goddess, aren’t I? I’m no better than a kidnapper who takes children off the streets at night and do whatever-awful things I want to them. It’s almost comical apologising to you and thinking as if it would make any different.” The Goddess’ voice, even as it condemned herself was gentle, soft, mind. Like a mother bring her baby to her breast to suckle, a cousin doting on you and you realising she was a girl.

“I’ve wiped out your memories. I didn’t just seal them away, I dragged you away and erased them. But I had to. I really had no other choice and it’s for your own good.”

“You have no meaningful choice in this matter.” The Goddess told me. “If you don’t help me, you will never get back to who you were. To bring you here, I had to change your very body. If you don’t use your body the way it is now supposed to be used, you will die.” The goddess got straight to the point. It appeared that I had become not only a hostage but also the party she was laying demands on. If I did not abide by the Goddess’ demands, I would die. Given that, how did my body change? My hands remained normal – they were neither sticks of starvation, nor were they fat sausage fingers. Likewise, my arms were neither fatty nor toned. Perhaps I could nap on my own biceps once and then lost them. My head was neither stuffed due to gluttony, nor were they skull-like if my fingers did not deceive me. My legs were neither hirsute as a woolly mammoth’s, nor were they stripped entirely of hair like a nude rat. My mouth was neither acidic with the sugars or past meals, nor did bitterness linger within it. I felt neither stuffed nor starving. I was neither hungry nor full. Generally speaking, I was completely ordinary and even my amnesia could not prevent me from realising this.

If nothing visible about my body changed, then what changed that would warrant a warning from a goddess, that if I did not abide by her demands, I would be risking death?

“It really was the last resort. I didn’t want to have to force a completely unrelated person to do this job, but I really had no other option. So I am really sorry.” It appeared that the Goddess was particularly interested in apologising to me. If I were more audacious, perhaps I would have denounced her as a hypocrite. The Goddess wished to use me yet was reluctant and apologetic when surely when for whatever reason she threatened my life, should I have been used, she certainly would’ve benefited – a hypocrite goddess, lower than a breeding bitch!

The Goddess ignored my anger and moved on to explaining whatever I had to know for my task to be done.

“In our observable universe, there are countless planets, solar systems, countless galaxies. These galaxies together compose clusters and in turn these clusters form superclusters. The Earth is part of the Solar System, in turn part of the Milky Way, in turn part of the Virgo cluster and this in turn is part of the Laniakea supercluster.” The Goddess told me.

‘So what?’ I was compelled to think.

As if in response to my challenge, having read my mind, the Goddess added: “Yet this is not the only matter that exists. For in all of existence, there are countless repetitions of this same Laniakea supercluster. The existence known as ‘planet Earth’ is repeated countless times over, its histories, its peoples and its stories and tragedies.”

Then?

“These repetitions are called ‘Records’. They are called Records for at least two reasons – for firstly in the greater part, what occurs in these Records has already been determined, meaning they are no more than recordings of what has happened and secondly because like musical vinyl records, in their countless processes and unravelling stories, they are like music to my ears. They are countless in number.”

For someone with no knowledge, the ‘musical record’ she talked of was a compelling comparison. In the very depths of my memory, perhaps there was a music medium called a ‘record’ that could be recalled.

“In these records, countless Earths exist. Yet even in countlessness, there are constants which remain the same across all of them. Telling different stories, they reuse the same notes. The same Earths repeat, in all their blueness and greenness. Time and time again, I am reminded that the human species are ultimately bound to this Pale Blue Dot, to this planet of water. Truly it is the most familiar planet and the one I adore most. In all these recurrences of the Planet Earth, the city of Kamihama remains a constant beacon, perhaps the reference point for telling the different things between Records. Additionally, the city of Mitakihara exists across all these records,” her words sounded parched with homesickness, “alongside the existence of Magical Girls – the source of all our questions and problems, the existence that we struggle for, our benefactors and our beneficiaries.” Sum to digest all that for my mind’s sake, we lived in something akin to a multiverse of many universes, in her terms a collection of Records. Within each of these Records, there were things which differed and things which were the same. The different things were what distinguished one Record from another – they were presumably the things that this Goddess spent her every waking hour listening to, as if they were remixes of the same song. The things that remained the same were the cities of Kamihama, Mitakihara and the existence of Magical Girls.

“The reason why you must suffer for me is because of Magical Girls.” The Goddess told me. “These Magical Girls are generally young girls with hopes and dreams. They themselves spread hopes and dreams to the people they share their lives with, to the peoples of the Earth. The sole reason I have dragged you here is not for my whim and caprices,” I truly wondered how sincere Goddess was, “but for the sake of these Magical Girls.”

“In all of the Records, if there truly was something that constant, then it would be the existence of those Magical Girls. If there are Records without Magical Girls, then they are immeasurably beyond my reach. There is not any world that I know of that those who I hold dear do not become Magical Girls. Young love becomes suicidal tragedy. Faith is lost in an endless prayer then is regained just before death. The desire to live degenerates into loneliness, maddening to the point of delusions and hallucinations. Foresight reaches its logical conclusion and two desires to save the world clash, one collapsing before the other. Filial piety is reduced to a joke as some seek to become their own persons, freed from the chains that their parents shackled them to. All this is constant.” The Goddess was cryptic, never quite letting me know exactly what she was talking about.

“I almost forgot to add. In all of these records, there is another constant. Within all of these universes, a race more advanced and probably older than the human species exists. They stretch across the universe known to the human species and probably extend beyond the parts of the universe that are not known by the humans species. They are unfathomably advanced, possessing either technology or magic able to affect entropy on a universal scale. According to them, they are responsible for maintaining these universes. Without them, they claim that the universes as we know them would cease to exist. They are called the Incubators and it is due to their work that the Records continue to exist.” If this Goddess were in interested in science fiction, it would’ve been impossible to tell which one of her words were meaningfully fact and which ones were speculation – the discussion had cross into unfamiliar territory. My body received the information with no familiarity, no feeling of recalling the past or any nostalgia.

“These Incubators form contracts with human girls to become Magical Girls in exchange for their wishes. The maturation process of these Magical Girls creates free energy, circumventing the heat death of the universe. In exchange for these meagre wishes, Magical Girls must normally fight until the end of their lives against Witches.” The Goddess informs me.

She allowed me to contemplate her words. Assuming this was no dream and she was no sci-fi nerd who simply had a lot on her chest that she needed to unwind and tell me – because it was one of those great science-fiction ideas that were practically begging to exploded out of her chest, the risk of someone else ripping her off be damned – then a race of space aliens were dealing wishes to little girls like candy, forcing them into a life of combat, as child soldiers to fight against creatures known as Witches.

It sounded like a campaign from an anti-human trafficking non-government organisation about vulnerable girls being exploited for whatever purposes.

“But you know what the funny thing is?” The Goddess’ face was half-sardonic, half-grimaced in dismay. “The twist is that Magical Girls themselves turn into Witches. So for the Incubators, it is ‘kill two birds with one stone’. They perpetuate a problem of humans being attacked and use it as the pretext to prevent the heat death of the universe, get free energy and maintain the universe itself.”

My sordid mind strayed to thoughts of girls butchering each other and eating one another literally – no cunnilingus involved.

The Goddess related: “This is where my role lies. I exist for the sole purpose of preventing Magical Girls from birthing Witches in their despair. For Witches are a threat to the survival of the human species and the world is not sinful enough that it deserves to be consumed by the despair of its young girls.” The Goddess’ wish sounded sincere – I found myself at a loss of words to sarcastically mock her with. “However, I alone cannot prevent all Magical Girls in all Records from Witching out. For there are Records that reject my very existence, that if I try to intervene in, eject my presence for them or even harm me.” The Goddess continued to recount her plight, her inability to save those that she was tasked with saving. “In fact, one Record thwarted me with a pebble.”

‘A fucking pebble.’ The Goddess mouthed under her breath profanely. Sounded like a trivial thing that could stop a goddess. Note-to-self – if relations between the Goddess and I deteriorated, bring a bag of pebbles and a sling or two. Maybe I could give her a good welt. “Yet even though I cannot touch those Records or even observe them, I am determined to bring salvation to the Magical Girls that reside inside of them.” She truly was a one-minded goddess. A couple of little girls got tricked by aliens, turned into monsters and she gave a hundred damns about them. The feeling that life was a lot more worthless than the goddess suggested lingered within my head, standing in opposition to her obsession with the lives of girls and women that I didn’t even know about.

“Of those Records that I cannot intervene in, some are so fragile that if I intervene in them, they would break terribly.” Wait for it, “Broken Records” she continued, “are those worlds which I suspect had been subject to cosmic forces on the same scale as I and failing to weather them, crumbled or were twisted into mockeries of their original selves. I do not wish to ruin entire universes for the sole sake of my mission.”

Anybody who could destroy a universe for their own goals – or as it were, their own girls - could be said to no longer be a human, but rather a monster.

“Much as it might contradict my earlier words, some Records consist entirely of Magical Girls that are not worth saving – some of these may be said to be true hells or which the resident Magical Girls are but tortured demons running around, tormenting the world according to their own whims and desires.” Yet I wondered if I had any role within those Records rather than her. “But more importantly, even as a Goddess, perhaps there are unknown unknowns that might threaten my great task – you are to be my backup.”

Dear lord – or maybe Dear Lady given the floating goddess nearby – I was to be the one on cleanup duty. I supposed to be the liquidator for when things got so bad that not even a goddess could handle them. Just how appalling were things supposed to be for a goddess to rely on the likes of me?

The goddess conjured a paper document out of thin – it wasn’t air, this was deep, outer space – think vacuum. This was probably the first person that I was meant to ‘save’ where she could not. A photograph of a blonde young girl was in the upper right of the document. The written word returned to my mind and I discerned the name of the girl as “Felicia Mitsuki”.

If she could conjure that out of nowhere, why not conjure a clone of me?

My eyes consumed the document on Felicia Mitsuki. It seemed awfully detailed. It was as if the Goddess had so much time on her hands that she had nothing better to do. The bum goddess had written so much about the blonde girl that it was ‘scary’ in the casual sense. Some of what was written didn’t seem particularly relevant to her mission…

Felicia Mitsuki. ** years of age. 151 cm. Eyes, purple. Hair, blonde. Soul gem colour and location, purple and on her navel when active. Goes to Chuo Academy in Kamihama. Breast size *. Two sets of feelings raged within me as I read and took in all the details the dossier covered regarding Felicia Mitsuki. One one hand, the amount of writing regarding her physical characteristics had gone into so much detail, that I could practically taste Felicia despite her not being here. My desires were tormenting me. The urge to squish her with my greasy, filthy hands, to take her as mines like a possession, to vandalise her every feature with myself and make her mine’s in the truest sense – it stirred inside of me. On the other hand, as the carnality of it all faded away, the document made me gravely sceptical of the goddess, self-proclaimed ally and hostage-taker alike. Why did this goddess cover so much in detail regarding Felicia’s body? It was as if the goddess was trying to tempt me. As was as if she gave a menu to a starving person all the while dangling samples of food over their head. The horrid excuse of a goddess knew exactly what she was thinking. I wanted something and she gave me the sliver of a taste of it.

“These details are completely relevant. I wouldn’t include any details that you wouldn’t be able to make use of. Every single physical fact about Felicia’s body needs to be considered when you set out on the task that I gave you.” The Goddess make me sound like I was a doctor-in-training.

“The salvation of Magical Girls requires a connection with them. In my case, it is enough for me to visit a Record, meet the girl I am trying to save, reach out to her hand and by doing so, she is saved. It is an utterly trivial task for me.” Then why rely on me? If you’re out on large, multiverse spanning sapphist escapades to prevent little scammed girls from turning into cosmic horrors, why rely on the likes of this scumbag here? I find my fingers pointing to myself. It’s not like I in particular had any power to rescue girls. And even if it were about rescuing girls, why was she digressing into physical details about the smallest difference in average features?

“It is not only I that can connect to Magical Girls.” The Goddess stared at me and indeed, her stares were dangerous. “By my modifications to you, you too can partially Connect to Magical Girls. Emphasis on ‘partially’. Your role in the salvation of Magical Girls is not to directly save their Soul Gems and prevent them from becoming Witches. However, you can act as a conduit, once connected with a Magical Girl. Through you, I will be able to save Magical Girls in Records that either are too dangerous for me to visit or are not worth expending too much energy in visiting. That is your role.” In other words, the bum goddess was no longer content with going out to save poor little Magical Girls from turning into Witches. She could not keep her interminable desires for girls to herself. By now, it had exceeded her ego and now she relied on me to consume or save those girls for her by proxy.

Part of me wondered if the threat of death was a fair exchange for the opportunity to interact with countless girls that this goddess just gave me. To “connect” to them, whatever that meant. I almost giggled at the choice of words. Still, either this goddess was lazy or she was incompetent. She had to delegate to me in order this save this ** year old *th grader from a city-

The slightest tingling of familiarity surged through me. It escaped me as quickly as it had come to me.

“However, the methods by which we connect to Magical Girls will be completely different. I am a transcendent being. I exist beyond the flesh, as a spiritual entity. I am not constrained by the little laws of physics, nor is my love for Magical Girls constrained likewise.” Ah. We’re now at the abusive hostage-taker-is-superior-to-hostage stage of manipulation. “Therefore, when I need to connect to a Magical Girl, I connect to them spiritually and I may do so at I distance if I feel. You on the other hand have no such advantage, yet your task remains to connect with Magical Girls, to draw them closer to me so that I can connect to them myself. Your task is to physically connect with Magical Girls.”

The job she wanted me to do was to physically connect to Magical Girls. The first job, I then have is to physically connect to Felicia Mitsuki. I had no idea who I was and I had no idea of my past nor what I wanted nor desired. Yet here some cosmic terror had dragged me out and demanded that I “physically connect” with Magical Girls in order to keep my life and fulfil her demands. Hopefully, it wasn’t hand-holding or kissing that she propositioned that I do to “physically connect” to Magical Girls.

“I physically connect, I mean copulate with.” The Goddess stated matter-of-factly.

I yawned. I had to physically connect with Magical Girls? What did she mean by that? I stared off into the distant stars, eyes waiting for any mote of light t-

“Copulate. You will have to copulate with Magical Girls in order to save them. For example, you will have to meet Felicia Mitsuki. You will then have to charm her. You will then live with her. Then for days in end, you will make her fall in love with you. After that, she will beg to be in your arms, she will long for you. When she finally does, you will lie down in a bed with Felicia. Then you will take out your penis and then penetrate her vagina. From there, you will thrust in and out until you reach orgasm and then you will ejaculate inside of her. Your internal ejaculation will undo the severing of mind and body that the Incubators have performed on Felicia and from there Felicia will be saved. Copulate. Screw. Have sex. Fuck. Mate. Bonk. Root.”

I stared off into the distance. There was no way such unholy profanity could stream out of a goddess’ mouth. Sure, it was unlikely that I was dragged off into space by some elder god in the form of a girl, but what was the likelihood that same elder good would instruct me to go live with a random girl from Kamihama whose name I’ve never heard off, then told me to go have sex with her?

“I can demonstrate now if you’re not clear.” The Goddess reached from her knees, her hands advancing from her inner thighs to her most precious parts…

“I’m clear. Crystal. I need to have sex with Felicia Mitsuki.” I absolutely had no desire to have this terrible being physically demonstrate it to me.

“Then, read.” The Goddess produced another document on Felicia Mitsuki. The contents of the document told me the sort of character that I was dealing – or rather was dealing with me.

“Felicia Mitsuki.” My lips read the start of the document.

‘Killed her parents in a fire. She had pulled a prank on her mother while she was cooking dinner, causing their home to catch fire. Was in a serious condition with third and second-degree burns over at least 51% of her body before she met the Incubator drone known as Kyubey. Made a wish along the lines of ‘make what happened never happened.’ Karmic potential was never really high enough to undo the deaths of her parents with such a vaguely worded wish. Memories simply changed to have her remember that Witches killed her parents.’ That hit my chest like a bullet – Felicia’s memories had been tampered with and as a result of that, the Goddess deemed that it was necessary for me to go and save Felicia in such a manner. I had to seduce Felicia, bed her and from there, the Goddess would use my body as a conduit from which to perform a more proper salvation of her soul, lest she turn into the monsters that she thought were her mortal enemy.

Felicia’s mind had been addled, pierced, violated. The past that she thought she had was not hers, but an implant. In comparison to my own lack of a past, stripped from me by an incomprehensible being, was Felicia better or worse off than I?

I could not help but allow a glare that strained my eyes to fly at the Goddess. My past had been stripped from me – I was just her drone. I had no history, no point of reference to truly resist her aside from my residual instincts, which made for a poor substitute for learned wisdom. Felicia’s past was poisoned, imbibed with falsehood. From what I was reading, she seemed to be holding on. In contrast with me, Felicia did not have to deal with the threat of death looming over her head if I didn’t meet my “benefactor’s” commands. Therefore, marginally, Felicia was in a slightly better position than I was. God, Felicia had it easy.

...or did she? It wasn’t really a time to compare my victimhood with Felicia’s.

Another page was added to the documents: ‘Felicia Mitsuki turns into a Witch in approximately 50% of Records, after exhausting her Soul Gem with inpurities fighting countless Witches in Kamihama as an underpaid mercenary for other Magical Girls. She is typically reported as missing in these Records. The number of Records where her body is recovered and she is proclaimed dead can be counted on one hand.’ Perhaps one or the more troubling things about Felicia’s fate, beyond the specific content about the loneliness and lack of mental support that she has, was the way in which the Goddess seemed just plain blasé about it all, as if it were a minor detail that could be treated as a footnote. Did the Goddess feel nothing about Felicia’s plight?

I continued with the document.

“Witch’s name is Beatrice.” The Goddess had the time to learn the proper name for Felicia’s despair, but not to commemorate Felicia herself. The Goddess handed over another document:

‘In the majority of Records, Kako Natsume learns about Felicia killing her parents and does not disclose it to Felicia. In the exception Records where Felicia does learn about this from Kako, the two end up killing each other or Witching out. Typically, Felicia works for as low as 1000 yen for Asuka Tatsuki and Sasara Minagi, because she is either hungry or her Soul Gem is impure and needs a Grief Seed to be cleansed. It is a roughly even split from here whether she Witches out or resort to less savoury activities to fund their impoverished lifestyle. Felicia may or may not snap out at Kako assuming Felicia survives, with Felicia accusing Kako of spying on her on behalf of Nanaka Tokiwa. The working relationship with Sasara and Asuka generally deteriorates due to disagreements about the nature of contracting out work between the three of them. From there, the majority of remaining Records see Felicia’s condition deteriorate rapidly with no possibility of return. Other notes: Felicia often forgets to pick her Grief Seed payment from Nanaka Tokiwa. Felicia often slightly injures Akira Shinobu. In at least one Record, Nanaka personally kills Felicia Natsuki for accidentally smashing Akira’s Soul Gem.’ The Goddess’ document on Felicia Mitsuki went on and on, detailing practically every single possible thing that happened and the statistics of such things occurring. Evidently, across all existence, the Goddess had countless sources reporting that practically made her omniscient.

I didn’t know what frightened me more – Felicia’s actual pathos or that there was a being just dangling over her head, watching her every struggle and that that being didn’t seem to empathise in any meaningful way with her.

On second thoughts, if the earlier documents, especially those regarding Felicia’s tampered memories had moved my heart more in Felicia’s direction, then these later documents - the realised form of the Goddess’ grasp on the details of what had happened – moved that same heart to greater fear of the being that flew freely before me.

‘Why did she know all these details about Felicia’s life? Why doesn’t she meaningfully empathise with Felicia? How long had she been in this business of saving Magical Girls for? Just how alienated and jaded is she?’ Those were all questions that had been raised by the behaviour of this goddess. I had no solid answer to any of them.

A great surge of pain engulfed my right hand. A sigil carved itself on the back of my hand. It was as two concentric circles, a larger one with a lesser one within another. An eight-pointed compass star radiated from the centre of the circles, as if pointing to the ends of the universe. A pair of wings adorned the lower end of the circle – in form they were practically identical to the Goddess’ own wings. The Goddess had marked me. She had marked me as her own property, she had branded me like a common animal. The burning pain surged through my hands. I was her possession, her chattel to be shared with whatever Magical Girl that she saw fit. She could likewise deny any Magical Girl contact with me. Once I was no longer of use for her, perhaps she would trade me like a piece of meat to some other cosmic horror to use and abuse as they saw fit.

“Three times. Three times you may call upon the power of these seals I have granted you, to give Felicia or any Magical Girl the magical power to make a miracle.”

Just as she was in front of me, the Goddess was now behind me. Her arms wrapped around me, mashing her breasts against my back. My breathing, a pointless formality in the vacuum of dark space, stop as if hitting a brake. Her navel rubbed against my lower back, jolting my body with shivers. I was her property and she was making this abundantly clear. There was no escape from the Goddess. Her lips smooched my cheeks, claiming my face as hers’. She had the ability to bond with me physically and carnally without me really having a choice in the matter. If she had a weapon, she could probably threaten and violate me right now and in the black emptiness of outer space, no-one would hear the wails and cries of a person like me. She was like a dog that had marked me as hers and hers alone and as the unfortunate tree she pissed on, I had no choice but to receive her marking.

The Goddess venomously suggested into my ear: “Go forth, young one, go forth and save the long suffering Felicia Mitsuki. Save her from her homelessness and her hunger, relieve her from her loneliness, become her shoulder to lean on. Save her from the arduous life of a lone mercenary, ostracised by those who should be her allies, ridiculed by the scheming and crafty Nanaka Tokiwa. Save her from being betrayed by the two-faced and indecisive Kako Natsume, write your own destiny with Felicia. Do you not see how lonely she is at school, how devoid her life is of warmth and comfort? Have you no pride as my servant, idly contemplating here while Felicia continues to both wither away alone and lose herself, consumed by her rage?”

Her narration was that of a sadist’s. Despite claiming to be sworn to save Magical Girls, to work for their salvation, it was deeply unnerving how the Goddess seemed to be revelling in Felicia’s own torment. It was as if the Goddess was licking her lips and getting off at just how desperate Felicia’s situation was. She dangled Felicia in front of me as bait, made villains out of Magical Girls who simply were trying their best in an imperfect world, all the while painting Felicia as the most innocent victim so that I would be drawn to her.

Yet Felicia Mitsuki truly was an innocent victim if you excepted the fire she accidentally started.

The Goddess’ words were poison and I could neither unhear nor unlisten to them.

“Go to Kamihama, young one. Go to Kamihama, Chuo Ward. Find it in your heart to contrive a reason, any reason to fall in love with this young girl. You know you want her. You want her all for yourself. You want to seize her. You want to snatch her by the pigtails, hold her down and have your way with her. You want your dirty, greasy fingers to dirty and pollute her pristine skin. You want her so badly, that the moment you see her, you will feel like someone in a desert who has just seen water. You want to devour Felicia so badly. That’s right, you want to wait by the schoolgates. And then when Felicia pops out, you wanna stalk her down, entrap her. You want to tear her Chuo uniform to bits and shreds, just rip off her delicate little bra and claim her filthy, greasy homeless body as yours…”

The Goddess’ words were a horrible suggestion. Yet for some reason, they fell on incredibly fertile ground. To be clear, an extreme unease dwelt in my heart at having to listen to the Goddess’ increasingly maniacal and lewd suggestions. I was being pushed in a direction that didn’t make me feel good at all. Even worse however, was how some of suggestions resonated in my heart.

“Go and save Felicia Mitsuki in the name of true love.”

* * *

From unconsciousness, from nothing, I woke up. I was no longer in the vacuum of outer space with the corrupt, wanton goddess that had painted patently awful and horrendous images inside of my head. To be honest, this was a mixed blessing. It was true that I was no longer floating in outer space with such a malevolent entity. No longer were they manipulating me like a marionette. I was completely and utterly free of the lewd goddess that wanted to dirty and corrupt me into a demon for her own whims and caprices.

There must be an emphasis on the phrase “mixed blessing”. As for the idiom, “out of the frying pan and into the fire”, I was not at all sure whether I was in the frying pan or rather in the fire.

The unfamiliar surrounds do not distract me from my mission – ‘Save Felicia Mitsuki by copulating with her’. The perverted demand of the Goddess lingered in my head. ‘Jam it into Felicia’s snatch! Ride her like you ride a horse! Make her yours. Mark her as yours. Own her completely and attack anyone that tries to take her from you!’

I shiver instinctively at the grotesque nature of the demands that oppressed my body. My mission was to save Felicia Mitsuki, ‘copulation’ was just an unfortunate means I had to use to achieve this. Felicia and I were going to be both victims of this goddess’ whims. There was no point in seeking to dominate her, to reduce her to a plaything for a litany of desires that I wasn’t certain were my own thoughts – it must’ve been the Goddess’ influence.

The deep thud of what must’ve been a sledgehammer resounded through the abnormal space of my surrounds. This was not the jackhammering of concrete that pestered you when you wandered by construction sites on your way to somewhere else. It was a truly intense sound, frightening as a gunshot yet deep as the cacophony of buildings smashing each other to bits in an earthquake. Had I had any doubt about the Goddess’ claims of an eternal war between Witches and Magical Girls being carried out in the streets of Japan, those doubts were now violently cast away just as the harsh thundering sound that I heard shook me to my bones. I was caught in a battlefield and what was the equivalent of artillery shells exploding in the distance were now disturbing my ears, completely roused from their idleness from the vacuum of space earlier.

My eyes caught sight of a great hammer flying from above, plunging down to meet a Ẉ̶̨̣̜͈͉̖̜͍̻̯͈͂̈́̎̓͜͜͝i̸̢͔̠͙̯̣̻͊̌͑͂̏̒͛̐̔͆̒̕͝t̷̩̐̀͒̾̍͛̏̆̎͘͠ç̶̧̢̨̥̹̹̫͚͇̟̱͉̦͂h̶̖̺̬͚̮̖̠̲̺̹̎͝..

It wasn’t only my eyes that strained. My brain strained. The creatures called Witches that the Goddess had warned me of, that Magical Girls fault an endless crusade against, that was the creature that I had just attempted to perceive. Evidently, my brain took great offence to that and would have none of it.

My hand jerked nervously. It hit flesh. Turning around, I saw that I had grasped an unconscious girl’s thighs. Just as nervously, I withdrew my hand from her. I didn’t remember her being there earlier. If to mentally collapse at the sight of these creatures was the norm, then it was no surprise that I had not perceived that girl earlier. Indeed, it wasn’t just a lone girl that had collapse. It seemed that that were a whole heap of people who were unconscious. I swiped my nose and a drop of blood painted my index finger. This abnormal space was straining my mind and it was dangerous for my health and safety. Sooner or later, I was going to collapse, exhausted, into that heap of other individuals dragged here.

The one person that I could rely upon was the person smashing that hammer down into the ȃ̵̠̈̃̊́͂͂̽͒̑̇̒̃̑ḅ̶̛͚͓̟̠̯̤̱̰̩̱͕̖͐͆͗͒̈́̋̊̍̕͜o̵̮̱̳̲͖̣̘͛͒̃̏̔̉͐͑̚M̴̳͓̣͔̜͎̑̃̇̐͐̒͗̏ĭ̵̬̮̖̠̮͔̠͓̱̜͙̠̬̈́̈̎̒̽̑͌̀̌̑͘͝͠N̴̥̫̯̫̔̓̎̊̈́͛A̶̢̛͓͚͚̭̫̺̞̮̩͈̳̦̩̋̌̈́͝ͅẗ̷̳̲̖́͛͑̄̓͗̓i̶̢̟͈̝̬͈̟̺͖̓̃Ǫ̷̘̬͈̭͍̺̻̞̠͋͌̒n̶̖̝̼͍͍̞̤͕̗̳̋̅̾̓͝ attacking my mind and my senses. I forced myself to discern the form of the girl who was the only thing between my mind and utterly and complete insanity.

I must have been delusional. For as she plunged that hammer down with the might of more then ten men, even in that horned helmet, it was as if I was seeing a saintly maiden cleave apart a legendary monster in half with a greatsword. For more than an instant, I was convinced that a holy maiden had been blessed by heaven itself and that a virgin saint swordsmaiden had come to my rescue, the sun shining behind her head like a halo, her armour shining brightly into the distance. How could I not think in such a way, when the hair of the girl before me was a radiant, noble blond. You could almost give her the moniker “La Pucelle”, couldn’t you? A holy maiden, free from sin and the touches of men…

“Felicia!” A voice far the combat before me – at least it should’ve been far, but my senses were also telling me that they were somehow near – spurts out the name of the girl who rescued my mind. Having her name uttered truly was a mixed blessing. On one hand, my target had been clearly identified. On the other hand, my drooling dreams of meeting a woman paladin had been dashed utterly to the ground.

The creature whose sight had tormented my mind earlier was now flatter as a pancake. Just as soon as she had laid it low, Felicia once again jumped high up into what passed for a sky here. With force proportional to the acceleration that she would gain from plunging down from above, her hammer ‘gently caressed’ the heads of at least a hundred of similar beings that had distorted my senses. Caring only for the chance to utterly flatten the enemy, again and again she sprang the greatest heights, merely using her body as if they were thrusters to propel the oversized hammer that she called her weapon. Wherever they were, Witches fell, reduced to puddles of distortion flatter than crepes. Felicia Mitsuki was on a crusade as a crusader and she would have none of the monsters she was fighting standing.

However, as Felicia raged on, slashes, welts, stabs and wounds of increasingly grotesque and horrifying nature painted her cute little face. A tendril ripped past her cheek, spattering blood filthily to the side. Her iron response was to smite the creature that had the nerve to raise its tendril against her, the familiar flattening hammer of wrath reducing it to a doormat. As if to avenge the fallen of its species, a tendril pops through Felicia’s chest – a sickening hole that you could vaguely discern the writhing of some abdominal organ that was still pulsing away, stay at its job of keeping Felicia’s body alive despite the extreme disregard and the callous brutality it was receiving respectively from its owner and from its owner’s enemies.

If there was any care or regard Felicia had for her body – which was so wastefully being shredded to bits by creatures that weren’t even human – it was purely in the offensive. Normally, the idiom went an “eye for an eye” but Felicia Mitsuki seemed content to take all the punishment that the otherworldly beings had to offer, all the while dealing more grievous damage, ten times as bad to the foes that stood in her way. And so Felicia, fighting in that reckless style that she excelled out, felled at the very least a hundred creatures in this manner, unforgiving to her enemies or herself.

On and on, Felicia’s eternal crusade went. On and on, her beautiful demeanour kept getting ripped to utter shreds, only for her drunk rage to power her through. Pain Felicia was dealt, pain Felicia accepted, pain Felicia endured and pain Felicia returned tenfold. Life was a pitiless struggle for Felicia Mitsuki and her combat style resembled her life.

Oh, what I would give to smash Felicia’s head in with a brick. But if we went by the logic of how she fought, she would smash my face in back with ten bricks. That wouldn’t have been ideal at all and so I was forced to settle with the beautiful sight of Felicia being slashed to bits rather than to entertain being the active participant in whatever penance she sought in that berserk fury.

The sight of Felicia’s struggle against death, life and pain itself wasn’t enjoyed by everyone however. The spitting image of a pretty...boy?

Was that a boy? They certainly looked like a boy dressed the way they were and their stance and their gait was boyish. Their haircut was boyish as well. They were the very spitting image of the Prince Charming that could not accept the sight of girls being hurt. Their hair was short and – there it was. Unless it was some exceptional case of gynecomastia, that pair of breasts under that sports bra clearly pointed to them being a girl. She, whoever was, took physical exception to the way that Felicia just mowed down the enemy – or maybe it was the wanton damage and wounds Felicia was inflict on herself that drew the tomboy’s concern.

What a meddling funkiller. Felicia Mitsuki had no problems throwing her well-being away in her crusade against Witches. In fact, the occasional smile of bloodlust decorating her berserk face indicated that she was probably getting off on it. That good-for-nothing busybody tomboy needed a good wallop to the face or two. That’s what she’ll probably get for trying to pull Felicia away.

My face twisted into a smile when the tomboy got exactly that. Felicia was on a berserk warpath, unable to distinguish friend from foe. When the tomboy went to try and pull Felicia back, she was rewarded with a nice push in her handsome little face. Felicia didn’t go far enough to be honest.

“Akira!” The very image of a yamato nadeshiko called out to the tomboy.

That’s right. This was Nanaka Tokiwa and her crew. The document’s contents came back to me.

So Felicia Mitsuki, in her berserk fury, blind to friend or foe, was momentarily tugged at by Akira. Akira was rewarded with a nice strike in the face and was sent flying away across the abnormal space. Nanaka Tokiwa, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to care that Felicia was in a berserk state and therefore could not help but to swat away Akira like an unpleasant fly. The prim and pretty face of Nanaka Tokiwa contorted into a veritable cesspool of seething indignation. It was a truly dreadful and disgusting sight. Nanaka’s face was perfectly designed for gentle, kind smiles, the smiles of a mother or a wife. To think that the very spitting image of adolescent femininity her doll-like face was could contort into such a dismaying grimace dispirited me. That was a perfect little face you had there. Why let fear and anger vandalise it for a dumb meddling idiot?

“Stay back, all of you.” Nanaka imperiously commands of her group. That clearly wasn’t directed to Felicia, but to the rest.

Ah, so that was what the iron maiden was getting at. Felicia, after all, was already doing a magnificent job of laying to waste the enemies within the space. It was Felicia alone that had to take the pain and Nanaka alone that had to take the gain. There was practically no point for the group to be there other than for support. They simply could’ve chosen to let Felicia do all the hard work. Like the scheming lot they were, they did exactly just that. No doubt that Grief Seeds were going to drop like flies and then they would take the haul for themselves while leaving Felicia with exactly zilch.

I truly had to wonder though. If Nanaka Tokiwa were somehow tied to an iron chair and was tortured with increasingly painful methods, how would that iron grimace on her face develop? At what point would it break, surrendering her graceful face to abject humiliation?

“Stay back and let Felicia be. Her recklessness is a threat to all of us.” Nanaka declared. Ah. That truly was the game you were playing. Hire a berserker who utterly sacrifices herself for victory. Bring along a busybody tomboy who can’t leave alone someone who is in pain. Have that said busybody tomboy butt in like an idiot and get herself hurt in the process. Then let the tomboy’s own pain burn itself inside of your heart and use her pain and your own as pretext to make full use of the berserker. Clever bastard.

Bastardy, trickery and machiavellianism aside, if Nanaka truly had schemed for such an outcome, then she certainly had achieved it. For Felicia was then free to continue her exterminationist stance against the Witch problem. Whether they were great or small, Felicia’s hammer was a holocaust-in-being, wiping out, crushing, exterminating the enemy wherever they were – and that ‘wherever’ had extended several soccer fields. Felicia’s ruthless hammer flattened, ironed, crushed her countless enemies. For the sake of variety, she had kicked one into the air, manoeuvring to slam it from below. The unfortunate spawn of the devil took the full brunt of Felicia’s merciless hammer, at once shattering into little pieces and then sprinkling across the space its miasmic guts.

Alas, such fury had its limits. Towards the end of her berserk rage, the swings of Felicia’s hammers had become slower, less focused, less angry. Her arms, which had once pumped the gigantic hunk of smiting metal, were now swollen with exhaustion. Tremoring now and then, Felicia’s body swayed here and there. Her rage and anger had gone lukewarm and the only thing left was the persistence of a lost and desperate child. She exuded fear rather than fury, not in that she inspired fear within me, but rather that fear flowed out of her heart, slowed down the flailing that only rage could power. The last creature of the dark she slew, she killed with a rather cool and dispassionate whack to the head, like a carnival game, rather than any truly visible hate-filled conviction.

The abnormal space faded away. The next thing I knew was that I was lying down with the heap of unconscious people in a playground. I could see Felicia’s body crumpled into an exhausted wreck, the Magical Girl armour on her, disappearing to be replaced by a Chuo Academy uniform.

“Here’s your reward. Exactly one grief seed, as we agreed upon.” Nanaka Tokiwa approached the near-wasted form of Felicia and delicately – almost mockingly – placed exactly one Grief Seed by the side of her unconscious body. Roused from their unconsciousness, the people around me woke up and after some initial confusion, made their own separate ways away from the playground.

What a nasty pitiless woman. Felicia had taken all the pain – which you all fucking deserved – upon herself. She had cleared the local area of an extreme threat to human life and braved equally extreme danger, dirtying her hands and splattering her blood away with courage that none of you displayed. She literally risked life and limb to make your jobs for whatever your wishes were trivially easy. You on the other hand – pun unintended – have done nothing but to restrain, hinder and mock Felicia.

Nanaka’s pretty perfect face would do so very nicely with a boulder thrown into it…

The dumb idiot Akira who had budged in while Felicia was on her berserk rage and had gotten physically displaced to the other side of the abnormal space was nowhere to be scene. That Chinese girl Meiyui Chun was far away, near at the edge of the park, about to leave. Nanaka Tokiwa finally turned her back on the exhausted form of Felicia Mitsuki. Nanaka was far more eager to leave Felicia than she ever was to have worked alongside her. As the crowd of bystanders who were simply caught up in this mess thinned, of Nanaka’s squad, only one member lingered about.

Kako Natsume, if I recalled the Goddess’ documents correctly, was a delicate and soft petite girl. My eyes strayed to her Shinsei uniform. Her socks neatly pinched around her lower thigh, revealing the thickest feature on her delicate little frame. Aside from that, her skirt tastefully and teasefully wrapped around her tight little waist and hips.

With hips like those, how did her mother pop her out?

Kako’s face and her hair made it seem like she was a cute little shrub someone delicately spray painted a smiley face upon. That delicate, gentle face peered down at Felicia’s frame. So many unspoken feelings were contained within that perfect little face. Kako’s fingers, grabbed at the empty air all while she stood about Felicia. Indecision, feelings that wouldn’t be discussed, they all seemed to well inside of Kako.

The indecision and internal torture Kako experiences was a delicious sight. However, all good things must come to an end. Kako found it within herself to release her from whatever tied her to Felicia. Turning around, Kako made for the streets, trailing after Nanaka.

So that was the kind of girl you were Kako. In the end, you weren’t really that different from Nanaka. You turned your back on those who needed the most help from you, after having made full use of them. The difference that you did possess when compared with Nanaka was that you had every reason to help those that you would’ve otherwise abandoned. You held deep and complex feelings for Felicia Mitsuki. Despite her being in an unconscious state, you could not even muster the courage to spit out those words. Despite being the one member of Nanaka’s group most attached to Felicia, you did not have the courage to hold onto her and let your emotions flow freely. In other words, you were an irredeemable hypocrite and a loser. You were a hypocrite in that you wanted something from Felicia and were almost willing to give something to her, yet you felt restrained from giving it outright to her. You were a loser in a very literal sense, in that in your cowardice to spit out whatever you had for Felicia, you threw her to the wayside. You now left the likes of me to scavenge up and pick up the pieces.

Perhaps I overthought things. Like a voyeur, maybe I shoved meaning and purpose where there wasn’t any. Then let me overthink – the way that Nanaka’s squad treated Felicia Mitsuki was disgraceful. Felicia Mitsuki was a girl tormented by her past. In this torment, she found the strength to fight against those she regarded as her enemy, whether they actually were her original enemies or not. Yet there were those who sought to exploit that strength for their own ends. Under the cover of a quid-pro-quo exchange, Nanaka Tokiwa took Felicia’s problems and bent them to her own ends. Felicia’s own natural shortcomings were used as an excuse to abandon her after she had done all that was necessary for Nanaka’s own ends. All that injury, all that bleeding and pain, for the sole purpose of being used like a rag to accomplish Nanaka’s own ends.

If this was the usual amount of callousness that Magical Girls treated each other with, what then was the _un_ usual amount?

I dismissed those dark fantasies of Magical Girls mercilessly shredding each others to bits. The coast was clear of Magical Girls and Witches alike. I could go and tend to Felicia without anyone noticing.

My footsteps against the fake turf made for a disgusting sound. I was half convinced for a moment that I was walking against faeces. The texture was soft and slippery enough without looking that I might have assumed just as much. The stinking air around me suggested that it was not only a playground for children, but for the likes of drug addicts. My eyes instinctively scan the ground for used syringes, condoms and other filth. There was at least one orange cap of the sort that usually came with syringes, but thankfully it was far away. Was this the bad part of Kamihama? If Felicia lingered here for long, enough, would song dirty slimebag have ready access to her body. I gagged at the thought of the girl who I had mistaken for a saint being taken away, seize from me for such immoral purposes.

Murderous jealousy and crushing protectiveness alike were stoked within my heart. The whole point of my being in Kamihama was to save Felicia Mitsuki. To save Felicia Mitsuki, I had to make her mine’s, I had to make a connection with her. That would require that she was safe and sound. My eyes darted left and right, wary of any potential threat to the unconscious Felicia. Perhaps at this point, my thoughts were paralysing me and I had in fact consumed for time than otherwise were it not for my crippling fear of Felicia being taken away from me. Who would take here away from me?

Kyubey.

The Goddess talked about those damned Incubators. They were the ones behind this goddamn mess. White little furballs, an appearance between that of a cat’s, fox’s or weasels. Ultimately, they were behind all of this. My breathing rapidly accelerated. The fact that no Incubators were visible only convinced me further that they were around me.

But enough fear of being watched. I had to prevent Felicia from becoming a Witch, as that was the task allocated to me. The first thing to consider then, was where her Soul Gem was. My darting eyes did not notice it anywhere near her chest. It wasn’t near her navel either, if my memory regarding her fighting form against those Witches was correct. Without knowing where her Soul Gem was, I would be unable to have the risk she had of turning into a Witch therefore preventing me from helping her when she most needed it.

Examining her unconscious frame, I noticed a ring on her finger. Looking at the gem, it wasn’t a solid fixed colour. It was always fluctuating, from a clear violet to murky, polluted purple. That must’ve been what the Goddess was talking about when she mentioned how if a Soul Gem was pollute too much, it would give birth to a Witch.

What would happen if I were to take a sledgehammer to it and task Felicia’s Soul Gem to bits? Would she be liberated from the fate of a Magical Girl, free to go to the Goddess given that the thing binding her to the mission of being a Magical Girl no longer had form. The way that Felicia had to endure countless wounds, countless injuries in her line of work, made me think that her life was absolutely pitiful. If that freed her from her duty…

I shook my head. Judging by the state of affairs I had seen, nothing good would probably have results from smashing her Soul Gem.

Besides, Felicia’s finger with that ring looked just so very beautiful – her fingers weren’t too tanned, nor were they too pasty. They were so delicate and tender-looking. I just wanted them touching me.

My sordid, steamy breath left me as I briefly allowed fantasies of Felicia’s ring-wearing finger tenderly caressing me to take hold of my mind. I slavered over the prospect of the hand of her wing-wearing finger caressing my hair as I had my way with her, over it stroking my back as I tended to her delicate little chest, over it claiming my buttocks as hers as I connected with her in the rawest way possible…

What a wretch I was, fantasising madly about what Felicia could’ve done for me while she was down on the ground. I squatted down by her side and held her tender hand, letting her precious, beautiful Soul Gem ring on her finger shine under the banally plain cold light of the streets. The contents of the gem on the ring were filthy. The polluted murk within in swirled endlessly, clashing against that little sliver of pure bright violet still holding the light of life within it. If the former dominated the Soul Gem, Felicia Mitsuki would turn into a Witch and I would fail at the task that the Goddess had given to me. If the light of the latter was restored, then Felicia Mitsuki would be safe and sound until the next time her Soul Gem was soiled.

‘Just rape her, she’s asking for it.’ I jerked as the thought polluted my mind. If I forced myself on Felicia Mitsuki and ejaculated semen inside of her, a proxy connection would be open for the Goddess to save Felicia. I wasn’t sure if that deviant thought was a product of the Goddess’ toxic influence or my own mind, but as hungry as I was, I must not crawl around Kamihama raping random Magical Girls. I shivered and the dark thought escape my mind.

I picked up the Grief Seed that Nanaka had placed by Felicia’s side. If I placed this on Felicia’s Soul Gem, it supposedly would absorb the impurities from it and cleanse her Gem. The Seed was awfully dense – despite fitting comfortably in my palms, it felt like it was heavy with the sins of a thousand people. Yet Grief Seeds and Witches were born from the despair of Magical Girls. Think of all the heart and soul that a little girl put in a wish, only to have that wish work out poorly, ultimately failing to provide the happiness that the girl who had become a Magical Girl had sought. Think of that ruined happiness twisting into a thousand curses to condemn the human species collectively for creating a world that denied her that dream. Imagine all of that, spiralling into magical power, exploding and coalescing into a solid form. That must’ve been what a Grief Seed was.

That was what the Grief Seed I was holding in my hand was. I lowered it onto the ring of Felicia Mitsuki’s Soul Gem. As the Seed touched the Gem, the stain within Felicia’s Soul Gem was practically wiped away, more rapidly than erasing the contents of a whiteboard with a cloth.

The sight of Felicia’s purified Soul Gem was so tantalising. Something so important to her well-being was contained in so small a space. I practically taste it on my lips. I wanted to lick it, to suck on Felicia’s fingers while my tongue constantly teased the ring itself, playing chicken with the risk of swallowing it whole and forever swallowing up a precious part of Felicia Mitsuki within my disgusting belly…

My opportunity to revel in fantasies about Felicia unfortunately came to an end. Sleeping Beauty that she was, she didn’t even need a kiss on her lips to wake her up. Her eyelids slowly opened up, a certain springiness and life to them radiating from them just as the Grief Seed had given her a new lease on life. The halitosis of a street urchin puffs out of her mouth, slightly repelling my face away – yet her breath was warm and she was alive and that was truly wonderful. You could almost forget that it was the late afternoon, the way she just scrunched her hands into fists to wipe her eyes clean. Despite not knowing who I was, Felicia gave me a friendly smile when she had no reason to. Her purple eyes mixed with the cool street likes into a vaguely grape-juice-like reflecting surface. She betrayed barely any caution or apprehension of the fact that I was probably a complete and utter stranger to her. The way she so easily opened up, readily making herself vulnerable. Felicia was just like a little puppy. A little puppy waiting to...

…

I dismissed _that_ thought.

“Hi.” Felicia greeted me. “Hi.” I returned. Despite absolutely not knowing each other, we were pleasantly amicable to one another, like little puppies and kittens sniffing each other in the rear end.

Felicia observes her surroundings. Assuming she were a Kamihama native, she would be able to tell whereabouts she was with a couple of quick glances.

“Chuo Ward. I thought we were in Daito Ward a while ago.” Felicia did just that. Evidently the abnormal space had the ability to start out in one place and with the defeat of Witches, those within it would land somewhere else. So she was native to Kamihama after all…

“Are you alright?” I ask her with a smile.

“Yeah. What does that mean to you?” A certain caution picked in Felicia’s voice. That was somewhat inconvenient. If she got more suspicious of me then I would fail the Goddess’ whole request.

Considering how strong Magical Girls were, I simply could not just force myself onto Felicia. I didn’t want to anyways…

“Hungry?” I gamble with another question. Either I would be outed for the predator I was or Felicia would fall for it hook line and sinker.

Felicia’s stomach rumbled. Her stomach was begging for a meal. I had found a way to Felicia’s heart and it was through her stomach. On a closer look at her, you could tell that she was a hungry little creature. There was the slightest trail of saliva at the edge of her mouth and her chest was far too small for a girl of her age. I might as well have visited Auschwitz.

“Yeah.”

“You want to eat?” I ask Felicia. That might’ve been a pointless question. Unless it were in a situation of someone holding power over another person and then dangling food over their pride that would only be given to them conditionally, it was more than likely that the common answer to it would’ve been ‘Yes’. Then again, this was part of a scumbag scheme to try and get her close to me, I could get laid with her in bed and do what the Goddess wanted me to do. If Felicia knew about that, I would be in a world of hurt.

“Yeah, I wanna eat.” Her stomach growls again. Her hunger could not be resisted and she was about to completely and utterly accept the assistance of a stranger to feed her. Felicia was so easily won over. Were all Kamihama girls like this, ready to get going with you the moment you offered something to their mounts or was this just a homeless girl thing? The sheer thrill it gave my heart, the prospect of easily getting close to Felicia over the smallest crumbs and vittles, made me shiver very slightly in excitement.

Perhaps I shivered more than slightly. My nervous hands pulled out of my pocket. Unfortunately for me, my hands weren’t the only thing that I pulled out of my pocket – my credit card went along with them, landing on the dirty park floor alongside a pocketful of lint as well. Truly, that was a very unfortunate thing. I’m willing to bet that there were no secluded hicks in the countryside – inbred hicks who concealed an unfortunate secret at that – who lived under the rock to such an extent that they did not know that credit cards allowed you to buy things in lieu of cash. That clumsiness was a terrible thing. It would be extremely frustrating, if while scratching the side of my leg, I accidentally pulled out something equivalent to a wallet full of cash and lost it for some uncouth asshole who I didn’t even know to use it.

Sadly, Felicia saw what was written on the credit card. “****** ******”, she read my name. We weren’t that rich, but we weren’t that poor either. I suppose that if my credit card had dropped onto the poorer parts of Kamihama and girls saw my surname, they would’ve come swarming over to me. And when they started swarming over me, they presumably would’ve declared the most outrageous things in an attempt to get access to my body, the integrity and purity of their own bodies be damned: ‘Oh, we love you ******, Please make me your wife ******, what is your favourite position ******, I’ll let you do that to me every day,’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…

Ah, but Felicia wasn’t like that was she? I was willing to bet that she was a genuine girl. Maybe it was just my baser instincts talking, but I wanted to treat Felicia right. It wasn’t necessarily, a calculated quid-pro-quo thing, where I was nice to here and expected her to be nice to me in return – although that certainly would’ve been nice – but it was more like I was already tending to be nice to her for the sake of being nice to her.

So I had to introduce myself to Felicia.

“Nice to meet you. My name is ****** ******. Your name would be?” The second part was just a formality. I already knew her name. However, she surely would become suspicious of me if I let her know that I knew her name without any prior contact with her. I was already getting a sense that doing anything to get closer to Felicia would have to take place in a frame of reciprocity. Quid-pro-quo, this-for-that. I probably could not simply impose myself on her and exact my selfish desires.

“I’m Felicia Mitsuki. Nice to meet ya’.” Her reply was truly gratifying to me, because in introducing herself to me, she was willing to admit herself into my life. We were no longer strangers to one another – we knew each other. We would be able to talk to one another and treat one another as familiar people. That was what I needed to worm my way inside of her heart.

Felicia’s stomach once again growled fiercely. She had an opening for me to get to her and it was through the oesophagus.

“’Scuse me, but could you buy some food for me?” Something dark or at the very least shady ticked inside of me. Here was a hungry ***-schooler and here was a scumbag that some demented goddess want to have their way with the ***-schooler. The scumbag was to make full use of the hunger of the ***-schoolgirl in order to create a relationship of dependence on her. Inevitably, the scumbag would grow closer and closer to the ***-schooler, until their relationship reached a critical point. From, there ***-schooler would practically beg for it to be given to her. And then I would give it to her, so that the Goddess could get what she wanted.

Thus, we decided to go Mizuna Ward to eat.

‘Mizuna’. The name elicited rather positive connotations. From kanji relating to ‘water’ and ‘name’ – where ‘name’ alluded to ‘fame’ and ‘reputation’. Whether there a meaning to the kanji used or more likely it was just used for phonetic value, I did not know. Yet with some wordplay ‘eat in Mizuna’, there was a feeling one was about to eat in a safe and decent place. There probably was no gutter oil in the cooking and the cooking there probably did not involved stuffing pangolins and bats into a giant stew pot and calling it a day.

The specific restaurant that I took Felicia to was a certain “Walnuts”. Personally, it was a tacky name. If the goal was elicit an imagined connection to “Walmart” or “Walgreens” in the United States, then they were very successful in doing just that – anyone who ate here would quickly became a lard-ball on a mobility scooter, forever doomed to wander Kamihama on a machine for the obese. Their Japanese would forever be stained by a lardy, greasy drawl, through only which their carers could make sense of.

Speaking of lard, the moment the two of us stepped into the restaurant and got seated, we had the misfortune of seeing just that. At the very least she was tubby, at worst she was a pig given human form. The ‘she’ in question, was a girl – I say this very rudimentarily – was a girl in a purple Mizuna uniform and she was stuffing her face with spaghetti. She was a blonde, but she was not the same blonde as my Felicia. On a second examination, I wondered if I had seen the Mizuna blonde before. Was “she” really a girl?

My day was almost ruined by the sight of that sow. Thankfully, opposite to the lard, there was a decent, normal girl. Long black hair covered her her head. Also a Mizuna schoolgirl, her blue eyes looked so innocent and pure. Then, it was as if in a moment, that I wanted to jump out of my seat, approach her and just devour her. ‘Rape, rape, rape!’ was the cry that resounded in my head as I ogled the Mizuna girl with black hair, my eyes practically licking every part of her body from a distance as I struggled desperately to hold my urges in…

So the pig and the rapebait continued to hold their little conversation together, while on the one hand, I desperately restrained myself, salivating madly as my eyes crudely ogled every curve and depression on the rapebait’s body. I didn’t have must of an interest in the human sow, but I must admit that it would’ve been a very interesting sound to hear her squeal while I was inside of her. My trousers were uncomfortably moist from the result of contemplating having my way with the farm animal. To make matters worse, whenever they replied to one another, my attention also alternated. At times my body had to deal with the pig, where I was either disinterested or morbidly aroused. But when the black-haired man-magnet talked, her lips waving about without a care in the world, I could not help to madly fantasise about shoving myself into her.

“I want to eat.” Felicia calls to me. Well what did Felicia want to eat? Did Felicia want to eat a sausage? Did she want to eat cream? At the very least I had the two of those on me. What was the point of telling me she wanted to eat when I wasn’t serving?

“Order whatever you want.” I indulged her. I was the one bringing Felicia to dinner. Therefore, it made sense that she should be spoiled with choice. Her slavering, slobbering mouth was practically gushing forth a waterfall of drool, dripping and dirtying the table-cloth. At this rate, the restaurant owners were going to add a surcharge to the dinner bill. Perhaps it would’ve been a better option to order take-away and have Felicia eat somewhere else. On the other hand, that smile of hers, filled with happiness at the chance to gobble up Mizuna Ward cooking was so difficult to simply push aside…

The orange-haired… chef? … came to take our order.

“Well then! I’ll have 10 plates of spaghetti bolognese, 32 egg omelettes, 100 parfaits, 23 plates of fried rice, 14 bowls of cheese and onion soup…” Felicia went on and on and on, practically claiming everything on the menu.

Was it really a bad thing that she was ordering all that? Felicia probably didn’t have that much of a chance to eat out. Maybe she did eat at restaurants, but what she ate was practically garbage.

“Um…” The chef-too-poor-to-hire-waitresses was somewhat stunned by Felicia’s demands for what was probably worth the entire restaurant in yen. She turned to me, smiling nervously, as if waiting for confirmation on whether Felicia’s order should go forward. I myself was rather surprised, although it wasn’t necessarily negative given how I felt about Felicia living rough…

“I can pay for that.” I told the chef. It really was just a guess really, given how Felicia had reacted to the sight of my name on the credit card earlier. If she had given such a reaction, I was rich enough to buy her that?

“Are you serious?” The chef was still somewhat sceptical I would be willing to pay such a large sum for Felicia Mitsuki.

“She can have all that. It’s my treat for her.” The chef shrugged, taking my words to heart. Scanning my credit card, she raised her eyebrows at how the transaction was so easily accepted.

Felicia for her part was simply elated at how I accepted her order. Perhap’s instinctively, she heaps praise upon me. “Yay, ****** paid my order for me!” Beyond the instinctive praise of a little girl, she probably did have genuine gratitude for me giving her dinner.

* * *

Plates upon plates of food arrived at the table. Felicia Mitsuki ruthlessly devoured all the food that served to her – noodles, rice, pasta, like a great swarm of locusts, Felicia somehow had the stomach space to simply wolf it all up. By now, folks were queuing outside of Walnuts, waiting to be served, delay that had been caused by Felicia’s gluttony.

Contrary to my expectations, Felicia did not have a hyperspace stomach. It was true that Felicia had the ability to consume and consume great amounts of food far beyond what seemed like the world’s greatest competitive eaters – at least once, she simply shovelled an entire plate of fried rice into the mouth, not even taking a second to chew its toppings. However, Felicia reaped what she sowed, not that she sowed that much – just how much could the gluttonous girl wolf down and consume?

So with half a restaurant’s worth of cooked food in her stomach, Felicia’s mannerisms and reactions had become more slow than sluggish. If I had to pick between the Mizuna lard from earlier and from Felicia Mitsuki right now, the only way I would be able to distinguish them was the fact that Felicia wore a Chuo uniform. Beyond the uniform, the only question that I could possibly answer was “who is the bigger sow” and the Mizuna lardball wasn’t necessarily the go-to answer.

The roosters had come home to roost and Felicia was nodding off. The chef approached me.

“The name is Manaka Kurumi. My guess on much she would actually eat was spot on. I suppose the other meals that have yet to have been prepared should be counted as pre-ordered, so Felicia can have them for later.” I nodded, acknowledging how Manaka would deal with the huge backlog of meals Felicia had yet to eat – she had only wolfed down 1% of the total.

* * *

Felicia practically crawled out ponderously out of Walnuts after her sow-like binge. With the disapproval some of the residents had at the sight of Felicia just writhing her way out of Walnuts, you would’ve thought that she had flashed or something. Felicia Mitsuki, reprobate vagabond, vacuum cleaner of Mizuna. Right now, she certainly played the part, stumbling about, her footsteps practically crushing down on the concrete as her gluttony was given mobile form. Her face was absolutely swollen. No doubt poking a finger in her face would’ve resulted in the pudginess bouncing your finger back.

Without the context that she was revelling in gluttony, her bulging girth of overeating could’ve easily been confused with pregnancy. Felicia’s little binge baby bump was practically filling her Chuo uniform, stretching it to its limits. It looked like at anytime that her blouse was about to burst from the massive surfeit of carbs that she had for dinner. The sight of her walking with me was outrageous and scandalous for some of the denizens of Mizuna, who could not help but to concoct outright fictions of a student couple from Chuo flashing the girl’s baby bump for the whole neighbourhood to see. Didn’t Japan have a fertility crisis to worry about?

And so, Felicia, with a half or more of Walnuts’ total cooked meals for the day in her stomach wandered with I down the streets of Mizuna Ward, scandalising and shocking locals and residents alike.

“Hey Felicia, don’t you think that that was a bit excessive?” I comment on her gluttony. It really was too much. Surely, a meal or two with a side and a drink should’ve been enough to sate her outrageous hunger, which might’ve been not necessarily for food?

Felicia whines indistinctly, protesting my criticism of her. In that carbohydrate-addled state of hers, she starts out with a high pitched whine that moderates into a neutral pitch, then shifts to a still-incomprehensible grave tone, eventually returning to a shrill protest as before.

Miraculously, her little body had somehow managed to digest the endless slop of food that she had shoved down her digestive tract. Initially, her response was muffled. Yet Felicia managed to force her mouth to make the necessary vocalisations to respond to my criticism of her, although the tone was certainly a sluggish and lardy one:

“Oww ssot upp you nagger. You wud nebber kno wot it ish loik to bee hongrie.” The air going up through her lungs and out her mouth as sound probably had to be filtered away by the great swelling of her throat and face, resulting in a dull reverberation that could only be deciphered by focus and effort.

If it weren’t for overeating, Felicia would’ve probably sounded more annoyed and pissed off with me. Unfortunately for her, she overate, so there really was no way for me to have perceived it as simply a normal retort. If she didn’t want me to follow her through the streets of Mizuna Ward, then she simply didn’t give any indication that she didn’t want me following her. Given that I had fed her for the night, surely I had the right to an expectation that the one I treated dinner to would go back home safe?

“Oi.” Felicia indicated that she wanted to tell me something. It was rather surprising. At best she didn’t have that bad of an opinion of me and at worst, I was half-expecting her to change into a Magical Girl and bonk me with that giant hammer of hers.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to go to? Why do you keep following me?” Those were Felicia’s two simple questions. I could not immediately come up with two simple answers.

Those questions completely ruined everything. I most certainly could not answer the latter. However the former probably had an answer, however, I wasn’t particularly in a mood to find it.

I stared at the windows of the house of Mizuna Ward, the rooms inside of them lit, the silhouettes of people living their family lives taunting me. Of those residents of Mizuna who were students or children, they probably all had a home to go to. On the other hand, I had simply appeared in Chuo Ward. If there was a place that I could call home, it wasn’t in Kamihama. Yet if it wasn’t in Kamihama where would it be? I don’t know.

“Hey. Answer me.” Felicia demanded.

That was a truly impossible demand from Felicia. My mind was as a vase. My memories were as liquid and they had all been poured out into the gutter. There was nothing quite as wretched as someone without a past. If I had a past, it had been thrown away by that capricious goddess for her own ends. Yet regarding the fact that there was nothing quite as wretched as someone without a past, it certainly was possible to be even more wretched as someone without a past – it was a miserable thing to not know one’s past, but perhaps it was ten times worst to lack a past and knowledge of one’s family as well. That was me.

“I can’t go back to my family.” This was what my body told me – without my memories, I had to trust it because it was possibly the only thing that knew of my past. The fact that I had a credit card with a certain surname meant nothing. If that Goddess had the power to take away my past from me and leave me a vagrant without a home or a family to return to, I could count on her to create fake identities for me to work with.

That I told Felicia. At first, a dispirited glance stain her face. But then as the two of us made our ways down the street together, she started into the night sky, stars hidden by Mizuna Ward’s light pollution.

“Is that so?” There was a certain sullenness to Felicia taking my reply at face value. Perhaps it hit home close to her. “So where do you live?” Was she expecting me to answer that question too? I didn’t have a place to call home at all.

“I dunno.” I stared longingly into the houses of the residents of Mizuna Ward. If you paid closer attention, the most mundane and banal discussions at the family dinner table occurred – I could only spit out envy at that.

“So...se-” Felicia was about to part with me and I couldn’t have that.

“How about we hire a hotel room?” I suggested. Felicia was taken aback – yet she did not really protest against it. Really, the negative connotations associated with hotels was none of my business. Far from being dens of immorality, hotels provided accommodation to people, shelter from the cold, roofs over their heads.

“Alright.” Felicia quietly went along with the suggestion. I asked a homeless girl to go together with me a hotel and she utterly and completely agreed with it!

* * *

The two of us made our way to a five-star hotel together in downtown Mizuna. It surely would’ve been an unusual sight, a pair of adolescents out together at night.

I approached the desk to book a room. The clerk is either surprised or disturbed to see the aforementioned pair of adolescents – us - wandering in the lobby of a hotel late at night. It was as if Felicia and I had committed sacrilege together.

“Excuse me, Felicia and I” mentioning the two of us together in a sentence made me feel warm “would like to hotel booking for a room together.”

“You two want to WHAT? I’m legally obligated to make sure you’re legally allowed to be here. No way am I going to let two ******-schoolers just go book a room together and risk my job. Go back home you delinquents.”

Putting my faith in whatever manipulation of reality has been made for me, I draw a random plastic card out of my wallet in my pocket.

“So you’re of age. But what about her?”

There almost certainly was no way that Felicia was going to be recognised as a true adult with how short and petite she was. At this rate we were absolutely doomed to sleep on the streets. Speaking of which, why does Japan have its priorities so screw up? Don’t give hotel accommodation to young folks, its better for them to expose themselves to terrible risks sleeping rough?

The employee’s phone rings with a text message.

“What’s this? Let ****** ****** and Felicia Mitsuki book a room together and do not disturb them? Are you kidding me?”

He receives another message and stops arguing, relenting to whoever gave the message.

* * *

Felicia was truly excited at the sight of the king sized bed. She practically leaped on it like a frog, stretching out her limbs. With a mighty thud, she landed on the bed. The softness that she experienced from it must have been beyond ordinary for her, for as soon as she was on the bed, I could vaguely discern her practically humping, nuzzling and hugging the pillows as if they were ultra-soft farm animals that you just wanted to squeeze the cheeks of.

I approached the bed. Perhaps a lewd part of me wanted to outright make it a common bed between Felicia and I. Felicia however, was having none of it.

“Don’t you dare.” Felicia pouted at my while hugging a pillow. She threw a pillow or two onto the floor. I was to sleep like a little doggie.

I could’ve simply booked another room, but that wasn’t the goal.

My phone chimed. Pulling it out, I read the text message I received. Things had gotten awfully convenient for me. In fact, things were already too terribly conveniently for me that perhaps, I might’ve outright attributed it to the personal intervention of the Goddess. A credit card with seemingly endless funds, identification that probably concealed my real age and a text message to the hotel employee telling him to piss off – all of this was topped by one further boon, a notice that I was transferring to Chuo Academy, the same school Felicia went.

It was all too terribly convenient. Just how much of my actions done of my own agency? How many of my actions were chosen beforehand by that capricious goddess? What did she gain by subjecting me to this?

The next morning came. To the ire of some of the guests within the hotel – a bunch of prejudicial Mizuna socialites who would look very nice with a brick to the head – the two of us had breakfast together. Felicia developed some control, although I’m pretty sure that the way she ate probably a quarter of what the hotel cooked this morning was going to incur some pretty heavy bills for my credit card.

* * *

“Good morning everybody. Today we have a new student in class today! Everyone-”

“My name is ****** ******. Please to meet you all.” I introduced myself to the class.

“Well everyone, ****** has been overseas in America for quite a while. So please be nice to them. They might take some time getting acquainted to study here.” Everything was far too convenient and lubricated to be natural. On one hand, I was part of a well off family and on the other hand, my alibi was that I was in America. Too convenient.

Lunch break came rather uneventfully. I had taken the seat in front of Felicia – as I said, things were far too convenient for me to be a coincidence. I had legitimately tried to paid attention in class, with Felicia whining at being unable to break me out of my focus in it – sorry Felicia, I had to pay attention in class, I was never comfortable being told off by the teachers. A pouty and frustrated Felicia that then left me to my own devices. Naturally, this meant ogling any and every girl that I could until I got noticed.

* * *

“Yikes!”A utterly girlish Rika Ayano walked away as quickly as possible the moment she felt my eyes on her legs.

* * *

“You’re not Hayato.”Aimi Eri noted before getting away.

* * *

“Could you stop staring at Masara and I?” I must say Kokoro’s body was a tasty piece of meat...

* * *

“What’s goingon in your mind?” Ayaka was a clown, no point listening to her puns.

* * *

“Aren’t I too old for you?” Meiyui Chun – the same Meiyui who had been with Nanaka - criticised my taste.

* * *

So afternoon came. Felicia had been thoroughly pissed off by my oglefest and didn’t want much to do with me. Of course, I wasn’t to going to let her just roam the streets for another mercenary opportunity and get totally trashed in a berserk rage, so I gave chase to her.

“Why don’t you stop following me and go back to your hotel room?” Felicia semi-snapped at me, annoyed by my following her like a mother duck. It made perfect sense for her to tell me to go back to the hotel, seeing that I wasn’t a Magical Girl myself.

“I know about Witches and Magical Girls, Felicia.” I informed her. Knowledge probably wasn’t sufficient to help fend off against their attacks, but what really mattered, as far as I felt, was that I was near Felicia to witness her fight.

“You’re just going to be an obstacle for me.”

“Yes, but I’m going to be _your_ obstacle.” That much was true – I wasn’t sent by Nanaka to try and sabotage Felicia. The nature of the impediment that I brought was one specifically for Felicia’s own sake. I wasn’t an obstacle sent to strip Felicia of her life’s agency, I was an ordeal sent for the betterment of Felicia Mitsuki herself.

“That’s…” Felicia tried to discern a reason to forbid me from following her. If there was a reason for me to not follow her, then she did not voice it. She was at worst lukewarm at that prospect and at best alright with me.

* * *

Thus, Felicia, by herself, or rather followed by me, embarked on a ruthless, pitiless unending crusade against Witches. Kamihama had become a warzone and Felicia Mitsuki wielded her hammer, swinging it against every single Witch in every single ward with neither pity nor mercy. Exerting herself to the limit, every day saw her Soul Gem brought to more shocking extremes of purity and pollution alike, from the brightest violet to the deepest and darkest grape juice in colour. The wards of Daito, Shinsei, Chuo, Mizuna, Kosho, Sankyo, Hokuyo and so on became as charnel houses for Witchkind.

I had become a witness to Felicia’s struggle. I saw her every wounds, I heard her every cries and I had become acquainted with the smell of her blood and sweat. After every battle, Felicia was breathless, having expended so much of her energy on her berserk state. Yet every time after she had reached that state of utter exhaustion, it had become an established pattern that those Grief Seeds that she had gathered would be handed over to me. In turn, I applied the precious seeds of life to her Soul Gem, refreshing her very being. It had become a rather curious thing, really. I did not fight for her Grief Seeds. Felicia was the one that had won the Grief Seeds in battle. Yet somewhere along the line, we had become accustomed to me applying that necessity of a Magical Girl’s life to her Soul Gem – I nourished her.

The cycle repeated. Again and again, were Felicia and I went, we went together. From that point on, we were never separated from one another. From the top of Chuo’s radio tower, to the lowest sewers, from the most affluent blocks within Mizuna to the dirtiest apartments of Daito, wherever she went, I went with her and wherever I went, she went with me. The Grief seeds that she gained accumulated beyond what was necessary, and through trade with other Magical Girls, to a certain degree, Felicia had become more affluent, even managing to trade for a newer smartphone. The two of us rose together in the mornings, trudging away to school together to the constant scandal of finer society within Mizuna. We shared out notes together, alternately looking out for one another so that we were never caught by a single creature – her school life something else, for the better.

Daily life, in this regard, had a terrible effect on the both of us, far worse than any street-gutter tie-up abduction and rape could’ve had. If I had went along with the Goddess and had my way with Felicia – improbable given the strength of a Magical Girl – then forever, I would’ve known the walls of her flesh, never to forget their warmth. Yet here, Felicia’s smile, Felicia’s sleeping form and Felicia’s scent had carved itself into my very memories. Likewise, my words, my mannerisms and my listening ear had etched themselves into her life. This was ten times worse than inflicting bodily or physical violence onto each other. For physical violence would’ve been ultimately temporary and it would’ve been forgotten over time, like an awful nightmare. Yet Felicia and my heart have been brought so close together, that in nearly becoming one, that surely I would rue the day that we were ripped apart from each other.

The surplus of Grief Seeds that our cooperation had brought together was so motivating for Felicia that her confidence had become arrogance. In that arrogance, we had recklessly broken the rules of the great game of witch-hunting – that different Magical Girls had different territories each to call their own in hunting Witches.

We had committed this particular sin in Sankyo Ward. Sankyo Ward was where Nanaka Tokiwa and Akira Shinobu studied and where their Witch hunting ground was. While wandering through a public park, Felicia and I had the misfortune of practically walking into them, stopping at only a metre’s length.

Even turning around, we were confronted by the presence of Meiyui Chun and Kako Natsume.

Felicia had nothing to do with them anymore – why did they pretend otherwise? Kako’s flustered stares at my Felicia were deeply upsetting, roiling the contents of my stomach. Seconds of silence passed between Kako and Felicia. Kako frowned as if I had come and taken Felicia away from her – the truth was, Felicia was merely thrown away by Kako. Despite having the strongest bundle of feelings, Kako had refused to live up to them and as a result, she put them aside. Kako stared to the other side, her face painted with painful resignation and resentment. It was such a distasteful sight, seeing Kako’s soft face practically scrunch into a raisin like that. I personally felt like delivering a Parthian shot of whatever suitable liquid exists at the time onto her face.

Nanaka Tokiwa was a scary girl. As much as I was charged with negative emotions towards her, I could not challenge her stare – it was not a casual glance, but her magenta eyes threatened to eat my soul and leave me a husk – that I felt.

“I don’t think Felicia and you even knew each other before. Now for some reason, I see the two of you constantly sticking together. How many times have I seen you actually apart from one another? Are you relatives, or rather are you something els-”

Nanaka knew exactly what she was doing – Akira tugged at Nanaka’s sleeves rather strongly, while Meiyui stared dispassionately off into the streets. I didn’t know what Nanaka was playing on Akira, but there had been a certain toxic undertone to Nanaka’s words that made Akira suddenly feel the need to cling onto Nanaka.

That’s right. Even as those words were calculated to make Akira shiver in fear as if she were to be abandoned by Nanaka, they had to have an anchor to made that fear feel real. Nanaka’s afternoon breath blew out of her lips, fogging up her glasses and steaming up my face alike.

“Don’t you think that it is rather strange? We at least had been occasionally hiring her as a mercenary from time to time, but you had never hired her for anything. Then, out of nowhere within the last five months, you barge in, with no reason to do so.” Nanaka continues.

“You’re not even a Magical Girl. Normally, anyone who accompanies a Magical Girl this long would’ve been an apprentice and then become a Magical Girl in time. Yet you’re just tagging along with Felicia. Not only that, but you’ve went above and beyond – I’m willing to bet that you know far more about Magical Girls and Witches than you let Felicia know about.”

Nanaka’s words were calculated and they were meant to discomfort, as in disturb, and to discomfit, as in destroy. Nanaka sought to bring what Felicia and I had together to ruin.

Nanaka approached me in particular, her close steps to move absolutely trespassing on my personal space – we now did not have centimetres apart, but rather mere millimetres. The vague feeling of her intuition making estimates of my form and feature emanated from her – I was an object being measured by Nanaka. Her breath, sweet with the scent of cherry yet restrained with the fragrance of tea threatened to overwhelm me as her eyes practically sampled every part of my body, somehow making clothing useless. I could not escape from her vision. What was even more toxic was the question if whether or not I even wanted to escape from her gaze. I wanted to drink tea…

“Nanaka, please stop this at once!” If was far too much for Akira, who reinforced her intense dislike for this confrontation in very forcefully tugging Nanaka away. With strength enough to throw away a grown person, Akira pulled Nanaka away from her feast. I still, however, felt as if I were an antelope that had been partially eaten. Likewise, there was a certain frailty to Akira that was now practically visible to everyone after she had pulled Nanaka away from the confrontation. Nanaka intended this…

Nanaka Tokiwa, however, had no intention at all of relenting on the amount of potentially explosive tension that she was willing to subject Akira to, so that her end, whatever it was would be achieved. The feeling that she had not yet achieved that end welled inside of me.

Nanaka smiles deviously.

“****** ******, would you like to join my flower arrangement school? I will personally tutor you if you want. Would you prefer day or night lessons? I can do both.” With that mere couple of words, Nanaka Tokiwa had at once prepared a powder keg and a lit match.

Miraculously, miraculously, somehow by means unknown in the heavens – although maybe it wasn’t really unknown in the heavens with the likes of the Goddess - and on the Earth, the keg did not explode fully. You could almost call it a misfire or rather a light ‘poof’. Felicia really only tugged on my jacket sleeve. Yet Meiyui Chun didn’t want to indulge in such risks. She stepped in, separating the distance between Nanaka and I. Meiyui, in effect had implemented a demilitarised zone and there was to be no border conflict between Nanaka Tokiwa nor Felicia. After all, as a student of Chuo, Meiyui could not afford another battleground.

“Well, I supposed the four of us should get going now. Aside from a couple of flared-up tempers, nothing else much has been achieved. Farewell.” Just as quickly as Nanaka had incited this episode, she doused it, leaving only morbid confusion and anger for Felicia and I to process as Nanaka’s group left us to be alone in the park.

If the goal had been to anger Felicia for the sake of it, then Nanaka had achieved just that. Steaming and seething from the whole incident, Felicia’s eyes practically cursed the park. In other words, Felicia no longer wanted to be at Sankyo Ward’s park. To that end, with all the physical strength of a Magical Girl, she dragged me by the hand out of the park to Mizuna Ward’s streets and from there back to our hotel room.

Felicia pushed me onto the floor – with the strength of a Magical Girl, that hurt quite a bit, the pain jolting up from pelvis to my shoulder.

“******!” Felicia yelled out my name. She yelled it out as one might have yelled it to a dog – I had strayed and she angry.

“Please don’t look at girls other than me like that again!” Felicia referred to how Nanaka had gazed all over me – I could not recall if I myself had returned that gaze to Nanaka Tokiwa. I suppose to Felicia’s eyes, my inaction at receiving Nanaka’s breath in my face would’ve been the same thing as if I had stared all over her.

The tartan of Felicia’s Chuo skirt fell off, revealing only skin to my eyes. Her Chuo skirt dropping etched itself into my eyes – the actual seconds it took to blow down onto the floor of the hotel felt like hours. Felicia’s panties likewise were now no longer covering her skin. Having failed to see if they dropped alongside her skirt, I wondered if they were ever on to begin with. Uncovered, exposed, skin, skin, skin was the only thing I could focus on.

Had I seen such a sight before? I do not know, but I could not deny the desire it stoked inside of me. Felicia’s vulva was tender and young. The thinnest blonde public hair topped her mound. Her labia were immaculate, picturesque almost. Her outer-lips were as a paddock fence to what was no doubt was a fresh cunny…

“******, please, make me yours!” She asked me to take ownership of her. Now, if I recalled correctly, women were their own people and were not chattels in Japan. I had no purpose in treating Felicia like a common possession as cattle to be slayed and devoured…

“Take my virgin pussy!” Felicia insisted, grabbing onto the bottom hem of her blouse on both sides, all the while staring down at the floor, her face mired in pink shame and desire alike. “******, I want my first time to be with you!” she insisted.

The goddess had sent me here to ‘physically connect’ with Felicia Mitsuki, to have vaginal sex with her. It all sounded very easy in theory, but my body…

My body knew in its heart that it had never really known the insides of another person before. My flesh had not known flesh. I had not shared myself with either man nor woman. If there was any connection that I had to another person, then it was not physical, but rather...

* * *

_“Please wait for me!”_

* * *

  
_“******, I love you.”_

* * *

  
_“You’re not a bad person.”_

* * *

  
_“Let our vows reach the end of time.”_

* * *

  
I was a virgin. Soon I would no longer virgin and I would also be a traitor.

“Please, ******.” The rather discomforting situation had forced me off of the floor and onto the bed. That was a terrible mistake. It had made me prey for slaughter. For I was in the perfect position for Felicia to overwhelm, bring me to heel and utterly devour me – she finished her final approach to me, her slobbering pussy dangling mere inches from my torso and lower half. She leaned onto me, driving me into the bed. My flesh was only separated from hers by my trousers and underwear.

“I want you, ******. I want you so badly. I want to make you mine’s.” Perhaps this was a fitting punishment for viewing the girls around me as objects, proportionality of crime and punishment be damned. I viewed them as trinkets and therefore was treated by them as trinkets.

“I will have you. If you want it or not, that doesn’t matter to me.” Felicia asserted.

‘Just rape her’, the Goddess suggested. To think it might’ve turned around…

Felicia grabbed my arm. The strength of her grip reminded me just how strong Magical Girls were. I simply didn’t have any capacity to resist.

If my helplessness wasn’t that clear enough, Felicia simply stripped my lower half by brutally ripping my belt, trousers and underwear in one snatching motion, utterly tearing it apart. I momentarily wince as what felt like a wedgie bit my ass. The overpowering stench of the day’s sweat permeating her blouse almost knocked me out – it was ten times more powerful than chloroform, I would bet. Without the slightest chance to ready myself, Felicia pushed me down, her pussy greedily swallowing up my member inside of her, the slightest ripping of skin or flesh tickling my ears. I moaned uselessly half in violated pleasure, half in resistance as her cunny suffocated my cock. The slightest drip of red painted the part of my dick just under my glans. Felicia Mitsuki had forced her virginity on me, stripping it both from us. The sweaty scent of a hard day’s study, the old residue of her pre-hotel days and the cum-and-pussy-juice-stained substrate of hotel laundry mixed with not-strong-enough laundry detergent coalesced into the rawest stench, defeating my will to move against her. Perfumed with the skin-like smell of Felicia’s tender, young and now torn hymen, the raw yet tender smell utterly confused me. The pleasure surging from my shaft felt so good, yet it was born from decidedly terrible and non-consensual circumstances. If the goal had been to forever etch our bodies against each others’, Felicia was victorious. The stain of a penetrating rape victim was now stuck to me forever and I could never wash it off.

I never really had a chance – in the amount of time that it took for her to push me into the room to sink herself onto me, my basest reflexes that surged forth – I was a 5 minute-quick-shooter. My seed released inside of her.

“You’re awful.” Felicia denounced me even as she had forced herself onto me without regard for my feelings. She was not pleased and neither was I. Both of our bodies were left miserable. How was I supposed to please her if I never wanted to?

Yet Felicia, the beast she was, was a hungry woman. Not satisfied of robbing me of the chance to share my warmth with the person I treasured most in the way I wanted – that was made all the more worse in that I might’ve wanted to share it with her – she had to remind me of my status as utter prey. Her lips violently mashed against mine’s. Her tongue assault my throat. I gagged, barely holding back as she fucked my throat with her tongue. The rancidity of her mouth frightened me, the fear of her shoving dental caries’ bacteria down my perfectly brushed mouth.

“I had my first kiss after my first time, heh.” Felicia giggled.

“From now on, you’ll always be mine’s. Promise me.” Felicia demanded as I stared emptily at the ceiling.

Was there any meaning to that demand.

“Oi. Listen to me.” Felicia demanded.

Felicia angrily grabbed my head with her little hands, nodding it back and forth. If I could not bring myself to make such a promise, then she would compel me to agree to such a thing. She owned my body – by the chains of rape, we were now eternally connected to one another.

* * *

  
“A most entertaining spectacle, Felicia Mitsuki and ****** ******.” Clapping from familiar hands gave me a fright.

I knew this place.

Under Felicia’s naked form, bound together, once again, we were in the vacuum of the Goddess abode.

“What? Who are you?” Even as we were forcibly joined together, Felicia was not going to have any of the Goddess’ own rhetoric – had I gone from the fire back into the frying pan? Did my salvation lie in becoming Felicia’s property?

“That is not for you to know Felicia Mitsuki. In joining in flesh, my servant has wrapped my chains around you. Thus, I make one demand of you. As Felicia Mitsuki, the one who killed their parents in that fateful fire and made a wish of Kyubey to alter your own memories to exculpate yourself of your own guilt, you will erase ******’s own memories. Or I shall kill ******.”

That was all too much for Felicia to handle. The aura of a Witch emanated forth from her-

-It was promptly suppressed as it had been born. I struggled to breathe as the feeling of being strangled oppressed me. Felicia’s cries could not resound through the vacuum of deep space.

The Goddess would have her demands met:

“Beatrice.”

* * *

Eteilla. Dum. Dee. Zola. Giovanna. Campanella. Old Dorothy. ~~Beatrice~~. Hevelius. Crépuscule de La Reine. Latria. Kriemhhild Gretchen. Zipzap. Yuerao. Charlotte. Shitori Egumo. La Pucelle de Blancheur. Luca. Candeloro. Ophelia. Oktavia von Seckendorff


End file.
